


Name The Fire

by KnottyCricket



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, No Plot, Smut, Sweat, Tent Sex, dark places, jonerys one shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-24 22:51:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14365380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnottyCricket/pseuds/KnottyCricket
Summary: Daenerys wants to avoid him, but can't. He wants to be macho at it, but can't help it.





	Name The Fire

Somewhere along the Kingsroad, in the earliest phase of sundown; the queen and her company decided to stop for relief and tiffin. When the massive armies came to a full halt, some of them began to pitch tents, and others tended to the horses. Dany descended from her horse unto the white ground. Her feet disappeared in the snow. Voyaging through this land, in this foreign weather slumbered her aggressiveness, sometimes; especially during meetings with her council, when she was making suggestions. The air in north smelled like ocean breeze, scorched wood and corroded steel, at least that’s what she thought.

 

She walked by towards where the horses were drinking, and stood to watch. She watched for a little while before approaching towards the small body of water. She ungloved her hand, and crouched to move her finger tips over the surface of the aqua. She didn’t flinch at the coldness of it, in fact, she discovered she had liked the cold as much as she liked the fire.

 

The hoofing sounds of approaching horses caught her attention; it was Jon, Jorah and Qhono, and they seemed to be talking about something funny, evident in the small smile they all had on their faces. She stood from her crouching position and gloved her hand. It was incredibly shocking how Jorah and Jon had bonded so well, even after he knew about the two of them sleeping together. Ever since his return from the Citadel, like he had told her, she noticed that he seemed more accepting towards what will never be between them. 

 

These reasons made her feel at ease, and seeing him with Jon was delightful. Sometimes, she would pass by the two of them hanging out with the Dothraki; she would eavesdrop at times, and smirk to herself whenever she heard Jon’s hilarious attempts at grasping the few words Jorah taught him. The men in her service seemed to be comfortable in each other’s company; except maybe Tyrion and Jon, sometimes. It started when he walked in on her and Jon kissing outside the castle of White Harbor, at sundown. Tyrion was furious at their carelessness and the compromising political positions their relationship could cause, if discovered by the northerners. 

 

The following day, in a lengthy and fruitful conversation she had with Varys and Tyrion, they arrived at an agreement she had to stand by. They not only talked of the north but of other areas as well, to which Varys boldly reminded her of what she did to the Tarlys and how that kind of justice doesn’t wash off the minds of the lords and people she hopes to win. She wanted to defend herself, but then she remembered the people she burnt were family members to her lover’s best friend.

 

Being a queen was tough sometimes if she had to admit it, especially when her life is constantly on display for public scrutiny. It was harder still, when she knew she had fallen in love with a king that had no reason to pledge himself and his kingdom to her. The aftermath of his decision awaited them within the halls of Winterfell, although she had a taste of it at White Harbor, from the way the people looked at her, she was sure they hated her; especially the women, because by then they were probably speculating on how she has Jon at the palm of her hand; otherwise, how else did she get him to give up his kingship? She had surpassed the expectations of everyone in terms of beauty and ambition. 

 

The three men approaching acknowledged her. Qhono afterwards said, “King Snow says his technic is more superior. I wish to spar with him. What do you think?’ in dothraki.

 

Dany responded with a small smile on her face. ‘I will see first before I judge.’ In dothraki.

Jorah interpreted the words in Jon’s ear, and then Jon chuckled at her response to Qhono's inquiry.

 

Dany missed the sparring match between Jon and Qhono, but she heard the details of it from Missandie, and apparently, Jon had won. As soon as Missandie was done brushing her hair, she stepped out to find him. He was dabbing his head with a dry towel just outside his tent and speaking with Gendry, who introduced himself to her as Robert’s bastard, on the very first night on their way to White Harbor. After the days they spent at sea, she had come to like the lad for his wit and exuberance.

 

When their eyes found each other, Jon's face steeled. Gendry noticed the change in his countenance and followed his gaze. Upon noticing what had formed his stone face, he greeted Dany who was nearing where they stood and excused himself from Jon’s presence.

 

‘Your Grace.’ Jon greeted.

‘Lord Snow.’ 

‘How may I serve?’

‘Jon, you can lay aside the formalities when we are alone.’

‘Ay.’

His voice was music to her ears and the way his lips would form whatever he said, all these was starting to light up the wildfire pot nestled between her legs. She spoke again, ‘How much further before we reach Winterfell?’

‘A few days more.’

‘You have sent word to your sister to expect us?’

‘I sent a rider ahead.’

‘Missandie says you bested Qhono.’

‘We both fought well.’ 

He was trying to sound humble, Dany knew it. ‘But, still they say you were better him.’

‘Perhaps.’

‘Perhaps?’

‘Ay.’ He replied, leafing a hand over his hair.

Gods! She had missed him so much. The manly smell oozing from him was making her dizzy now. ‘May I come in?’

‘I thought you weren’t supposed to be seen alone with me.’

‘Will you let me in or not?’

 

Jon pulled up the cloth material that covered the entrance to his tent and gestured a welcome hand.

 

Jon’s tent was pretty dark, save for the flash of light seeping from the tarp that he hadn’t properly closed. Scrolls and maps littered all over the expanse of the only available stool for seating. He quickly grabbed them and dropped them on the floor for her to sit.

 

‘If you would excuse me, I want to get some candles.’

‘Yes.’

He was gone. She stood up and walked round the area of his space, trailing her hands around anything she wanted to touch. She sighted his sword laying to the side, she picked it up and unsheathed it slowly. She was so lost in what she was doing that she didn’t notice Jon walk in.

‘Put that back!’ Jon chided.

Dany was slightly startled. He could see her better with the candles. ‘Please put that back, you could hurt yourself.’ He said gently this time.

The spirit of mischievousness possessed her now. ‘Make me.’ 

He strode to her and tried to reach for the sword she had kept in her hand, she stretched out behind her. During the struggling, his hand had unintentionally brushed her teats. He knew what she was trying to do, but still indulged her. He had missed her as well. The look of her lips and playful eyes were arousing him and he was reaching the end of his control.

‘If you don’t give me my sword, I will fuck you hard, so hard you would be sore for days.’

‘Is that supposed to scare me?’

‘I have cautioned you. Now give it.’ They were still struggling. ‘Give it!’

Before, she knew what was happening, he tore her dress and laid her on his bed. She was bare and he wasn’t. He gave himself a few moments to calm down before settling his mouth on hers. He kissed her softly and guided her hands to the knot that held his breeches. His tongue went in search of hers, sucking at it, enticing it to return his play.

 

His hands swept hungrily up her waist to her teats, which he cupped with both hands. His breath soughed out roughly at the exquisite pleasure of kneading her softness in his big hands. He was dangerously close to the edge, and Dany’s actions didn’t help his control. 

 

She was rubbing his hair and member roughly. He positioned her hips under his, deftly easing into her a little, before leaning further against her. Dany watched him work his icy goodness on her with half-lidded eyes as she moved to take more and more of him. His eyes were tightly closed; sweat dotted his forehead. 

 

He lunged upward, lost in the quest for fulfilment. She clung to his shoulders, shaking with need, until a forceful thrust sent her spinning into the vortex Jon’s apt skills had always brought her to. He thrusted for a while longer, changing positions to suit their needs until he felt her nearing her third release, before going crazy all over her body. He continued to thrust wildly until he groaned, his big hands clamped tightly to her hips as his own need exploded and his body shuddered blissfully.


End file.
